


In The Light Of Day

by waltzmatildah



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 15:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waltzmatildah/pseuds/waltzmatildah
Summary: Prompt:baby.She types him out an email first.





	In The Light Of Day

She types him out an email first. Hits the backspace button more often than she puts complete sentences together and eventually deletes the document in full.

Starts again with blue pen and a blank page of lined paper.

But her hand shakes so badly the words look more like she's dipped a spider in an ink well and let it wander across the page at random. And then she cries and smudges the mess with her saltwater tears.

She wonders, if she sent it to him anyway, whether he'd still understand every word.

 

 

 

In the end she goes to visit.

Points her headlights decisively in the direction of Seattle and only stops once for gas. And chocolate. And a new box of Kleenex.

And to pee at least three times.

She heads to Joe’s first and is a little surprised when the sparsely filled interior contains not a single familiar face. The dark-haired girl behind the bar offers her up a friendly smile, and a _what can I get you?_ in an accent she can’t quite place.

She huffs out a nervous laugh in reply. A breathy sound that morphs into something of a honking giggle. She’s three shades shy of hysteria and a bar is the last place she should be right now anyway… all things considered.

She lets the dark-haired girl with the accent she can’t quite place fill the order of the couple who’d entered just behind her. Uses the momentary reprieve to make her escape.

 

 

 

 

The bench seats that line the path to the main entrance are still exactly as she remembers them. Chipped paint and the echoes of whispered stories. Tragedy. Drama. Horror. Joy.

He walks out then. Alone.

And she thinks that might be the first piece of good luck she’s managed since, well… a long time ago. He catches her gaze, does a cartoon-like double take before shuddering to a sudden stop. Lips parted; eyes wide.

A caricature of himself.

“Alex,” she murmurs, finds a voice she wasn’t entirely convinced had made the journey with her from Tacoma, “we really need to talk…”


End file.
